


What of love?

by AllieisaWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Double Drabble, Grief/Mourning, M/M, because angst, how many metaphors can i fit into 300 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieisaWriter/pseuds/AllieisaWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His life had been a song of summer, and winter had indeed come for him. "</p><p>Loras' thought in a moment of conversation with Tyrion Lannister. Storm of Swords. We all know what conversation I'm talking about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What of love?

**Author's Note:**

> my brother challenged me to write something in 300 words or less. I went over the limit by 79 words.. thought i may as well post.  
> Loras/Renly are seriously one of the most functional (imo) ships within the canon series apart from a few (ie Ned/Catelyn) and I always thought they were something so pure and beautiful and I can never express my feels the way I want to but anyway here you go enjoy.

“What of love?” 

No, no anything but this question, Loras could feel himself getting angry again at the Queen’s brother. The Imp who strutted around asking questions, opening up wounds Loras had been trying to forget. How could he explain to this man, to any man, the blinding pureness of what he and Renly had shared? Of what he had lost, and could never regain in any form.

What of love, indeed? Love was buried in a place that no one would ever disturb and Loras wished he was there too. For so long, Renly had been his everything, his master, his knight, his friend, his lover and even his king. He had dedicated himself to lifelong service to the man, but he had never thought to think about what that meant. Their lives had been entwined just like their limbs had been when they lay panting on the bed, overwhelmed by each other’s gentle caresses. Now there was a vast emptiness in the crevice of his heart, Loras still believed himself to be a good knight, he would still be famed throughout history but he could no longer tell himself it meant the same. He had wanted to be famed as Renly’s Rose, not the white knight of the monstrous king Joffrey. 

People called him a flower, and a flower he was. A sunflower following the sun in the sky, it’s face turned towards the golden orb of light in a worship, it’s gaze never torn away. Without the sun the flower grows stunted, pale petals with an unhealthy pallor but it grows nonetheless. Renly was the sun, and Loras the flower. Flowers need natural light given by the gods, and Loras had lost his. 

“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” 

The words he replied were pretty, almost as pretty as himself, but they held true. For Loras, there could never be another, he had tasted perfection, been held in the warmest of embraces, truly owned the brightest light in Westeros but now the sun had set, and he was left with nothing but Margaery’s dreams to keep him moving, functioning

 

“That’s pretty. Is it from a song?”  
No. His life had been a song of summer, and winter had indeed come for him.


End file.
